Paramount
by VolcanicPizza
Summary: Somebody once said to me, "I wish William Afton would get hit by a bus and die." Well, you got your wish. Nice job, idiot. Now look what you've done. (Point-of-divergence AU)


**A/N: As you may have inferred from the summary, this is a PoD AU where William Afton gets hit by a bus early on in the history of Freddy Fazbear's. As you also may have inferred, this doesn't make things any better. I'll leave the rest for you to figure out.**

* * *

 **2023**

Animatronics were not supposed to have mental trauma, but spirits were still perfectly capable of retaining it for years, and the one possessing the animatronic called "Rockstar Freddy" could testify to this.

He huddled, silent, alone as he had always been. The other three had already gone from the stage, off to the other room, but they were used to this. They had been through this before. He... hadn't.

Even closing his eyes, the memories resurged, jumbling together. Listening to his own voice, now raw with terror, dropping the act at last. Realizing what they had become, and being disgusted by his own fascination with it.

Colin, Ben, Sylvia, Hector, Hugo, Jake, Nico, Rachel, Mae, Charlie, Bobby... all just names in the end, weren't they? Names on a list of those who had died thanks to this franchise.

A franchise he was now forever part of.

He remembered first entering the doors, his family alongside him, keeping his face carefully blank.

He remembered watching the animatronics perform for the first time.

He remembered...

 _He remembered the first death._

 _He remembered huddling alone in a corner, just like he was now, in complete disbelief of everything he was hearing._

 _He remembered it happen again, and again, and again, and again..._

 _He remembered screaming until his throat bled._

 _He remembered coming back in hopes of finding closure._

 _He remembered the outline of that yellow rabbit suit slumped in front of him, that phrase- IT'S ME- immortalized in memory, carved into the flesh of his brain._

 _He remembered..._

 _He remembered a voice. Calm, soothing, telling him precisely what to do, how to avoid death, but he was only here for one thing and disregarded tasks if it meant he could escape with his life. This establishment did not matter to him, he was just here to find her, make her remember him if necessary, and bring her out of that place._

 _He remembered that VOICE, speaking again. It knew just the right question to ask, too._

 _"Isn't this why you came here? To be with her again?"_

He was jolted from his memories by a hand coming down on his shoulder, and his mind frantically raced for a moment.

 _No. It's fine. You're safe now, even if you don't deserve it. That's all that matters._

The concerned face of the animatronic now known as "Lefty" peered at him. "You don't look good."

Freddy- _that's what I am now, that's the only thing I can be now_ \- snorted contemptuously. "Golly, I wonder why."

Lefty didn't respond, instead merely sitting down on the stage next to him. They didn't say anything, which was to be expected. Even before all this, they'd preferred not to speak much.

He was reminded of who they'd been before this, and his head twitched at the memory.

"You blame yourself." Lefty spoke at last.

"Of course I do." Freddy replied, attempting to keep his voice calm and failing miserably. "Everything that sparked from this is all because of me. I could've been quicker! I didn't need to be an idiot and inject everything with remnant! I-" His voice broke off, and he stared helplessly at the ground. "If it weren't for me, the REAL 'Freddy' would be here instead of me. I don't know why you even wasted the time bringing me back."

Lefty blinked at that. "They were all distraught. They demanded unanimously that I bring you back. What was I supposed to do, defy them and simply let you pass on?"

"Yes." Freddy ground out, clenching his endoskeleton teeth together and hearing one of them twist and break with a satisfying _snap._ "I didn't deserve this. I lived my life, dammit! I was ready to pass on! But you!" He wasn't sitting anymore, he was standing, jabbing an accusing finger at Lefty, and he wondered vaguely when he'd got off the stage. "You just had to fuck it all up! You couldn't let me just die in peace! You made me into... into THIS! I didn't fucking ask for this, Charlie!"

To their credit, Lefty didn't lash out at him in return, instead, they merely stood and walked out of the room.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" called Freddy angrily.

"You're not thinking clearly." Lefty replied without turning around. "You need some time to yourself to calm down." And with that, they were gone, leaving Freddy alone once again.

* * *

 **1993**

Scott Colbergh would be the first to admit that he was a manipulative asshat, but he also did genuinely want the best for everyone. The trouble was that he wasn't very good at considering the collateral damage that might ensue, which was why he was hiding in the girl's bathroom. After all, who would think he'd hide in here? Certainly not the animatronics, they were programmed to be very logical. It wouldn't even cross their minds to look in here-

With a resounding thud, the bathroom stall door slammed open, revealing seven feet of probably enraged animatronic before him.

"Why the hell are you in here?"

Well, so much for that thought.

Scott had always been a decent actor- at least, his nervous, stuttering tone on the messages he'd recorded for the hypothetical next guard back when the animatronics were still trying to kill him seemed convincing enough- and so he decided to try to go for a calm voice. "Hiding. What about you?"

The animatronic chicken narrowed her eyes. "Very funny, smartass."

Scott managed a nervous shrug. "I try..."

"Alright, seriously, get out of here. What did you think I was going to do, kill you?"

"Something like that, yeah." Scott scurried out of the stall. "Either that, or just get me fired."

Chica rolled her eyes. "You're the manager's son. You really think he's going to fire you?"

"If I piss him off enough, yeah." Scott shrugged. "What can I say? I just naturally get fired a lot." His gaze shifted off to the side. "And rehired. And refired. And rehired again. And refired again. And rehired again. And the cycle repeats, with me wanting to kill myself the whole time."

"Didn't we agree after last time that suicide jokes aren't funny?" Chica started towards the door.

"That wasn't a suicide joke. That was just my views on capitalism and its corrupt, evil nature."

"Oh, for God's sake, not this again..." Chica groaned, slapping her palm to her forehead.

"Yes, this again! The proleteriat shall rise against the evil of the capitalist pigs!" Scott shouted, mockingly waving a fist in the air. "Insert quote from the _Communist Manifesto_ here!"

"How about I take that fist you're waving around and-"

Before Chica could finish her threat, Bonnie poked his head through the doorway. "Hate to interrupt your discussion about which economic system is an evil virus of Satan, but we've got maybe two hours, maximum, before it's time to deactivate."

"Okay." Scott shrugged lazily, pretending not to care.

Bonnie glared at him. "Scott, you promised."

"That I did..." Scott let them escort him back into the main room. No point in stalling, they'd just be even more anxious about the whole thing the next day and the cycle would repeat.

Freddy and Foxy were waiting in the Dining Hall, and Scott didn't need to ask to know that they were waiting for him, too. With a sigh, he fell into a chair, not even bothering to greet them.

"Well?" Foxy prompted, and Scott flinched slightly at the all-too familiar voice, but forced himself back into his chair. Looking at the animatronics, he was oddly reminded of a bunch of eager children, waiting excitedly for a story...

 _That's exactly what they are, too._

Scott blinked, looking at the animatronics through a fresh perspective: who they had been, not what they were now. The memories of staring at the missing posters resurfaced, and he mentally listed them. _Colin... Ben... Sylvia... and Hector..._

Letting out a beleaguered sigh, Scott refocused his gaze back on the animatronics, still patiently awaiting his story. "Right. You guys wanted to hear the story from my perspective, guess I'll deliver. I guess the point we have to start at is when a man named William Afton got run over by a bus."

* * *

 **1986**

It was curious, reflected Nathan Gein as he stared at the fuzzy monitor, how industrious children could be when they were faced with impending death.

Take this young boy- Kellen, he believed his name was. In the span of just a few minutes, he'd broken apart the dresser in the room and used its few metal parts to jam the left door completely shut. Two of the animatronics had tried that route since then, but as per the rules, with the door shut they could not enter. Of course, they were more than capable of simply breaking the door down, but Nathan would let it stay that way. Cleverness deserved to be rewarded, and young Kellen still had two more entrances to watch, so it wasn't like he'd be able to just sit back and relax.

And look at that! He'd ripped apart the fan and seemed to be trying to make the blades into a dagger of some sort! How inventive, how clever! Granted, it wouldn't be any use against the animatronics, but it was that he'd even thought of it that mattered, let alone actually tried it!

Nathan almost clapped his hands with glee. Kellen would serve as entertainment for quite some time to come, yes. This would be so very fun to watch, and if he decided to venture outside of the bedroom, well, that would be even better! Just imagine how he'd react to what he found beyond the wooden doors! Just imagine how he'd SCREAM-

Well, now he was just getting ahead of himself. With a grunt, Nathan spun his chair around to the array of monitors behind him, each displaying the image of a similar bedroom, each with a child within. Who would he observe next?


End file.
